


This isn't New York! (aka How Tobias Funke Ended Up in the Middle Of Infinity War)

by orphan_account



Category: Arrested Development, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Spoilers, Canon Crossover, I Don't Even Know, Light Angst, Light-Hearted, Pre-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Silly, VVVERRY LIGHT dw, i guess i mean jsut a little tho, idk about tags, maybe canon compliant, why did I write this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-06
Updated: 2018-06-06
Packaged: 2019-05-18 20:45:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14859995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Have you ever asked yourself, "Hey, how did the gay blue guy from Arrested Development end up in Infinity War anyhow"?No? You haven't? Well tough luck, because I already answered that very question for you in the form of this fiction.





	This isn't New York! (aka How Tobias Funke Ended Up in the Middle Of Infinity War)

Tobias was in New York City. And he was lost. And completely covered in blue paint. But, what’s new?

Lindsay didn’t love him. He’s not sure she ever did. Michael was always off doing something...Michael-y. Tobias wasn’t needed for that.

Gob didn’t need him, either. Obviously. Gobias industries runs itself. Lucille didn’t want him as a therapist anymore. Orange County didn’t want him as an actor. So, where do you go when no one needs you and your family doesn’t want you around? Apparently, New York. At least in Tobias’s case.

So Tobias stumbled around New York, dragging his luggage with a rope around the dirty, hot streets. He was dehydrated and starving, it’s a wonder he was still standing. The blue paint was starting to drip off, and the drippings left a trail wherever Tobias walked. I guess he kinda thought this trip to New York would go more like a Broadway musical and less like a fever dream because he only had one hundred dollars cash, a bunch of headshots, and some glitter in his luggage. Small amounts of glitter spilled out each time the luggage got dragged over a bump in the road.

Originally, he was walking the streets to find either a hotel, an acting agency, a blue man group recruiter or best case scenario: all of the above. But the only hotel he found told him to leave and threatened to call the cops. It’s a shame Tobias thought this was an assault on his character instead of a fear-based reaction to a completely blue man with cutoffs stumbling into the lobby, dripping.

Suddenly, he stopped and looked around, maybe in a moment of clarity. He didn’t know how long he had been walking for but one of his base instincts told him it was time to take a break. Slowly but surely, Tobias stumbled into a nearby alley to cool off.

He awoke hours later to a strange man prodding him with a stick. Tobias took a second to take in his surroundings. It was evening now. Somehow he had fallen asleep on a trash pile in a filthy alley in the middle of New York City. His luggage was missing, stolen. Yet someone had the courtesy to leave the headshots. How thoughtful. 

And, there was a man. Poking him. With a stick.

“Uh. Hello, sir. I don’t have anything for you, someone already stole it. And I’m not a prostitute either. Yet.” He sat up and took a closer look at the assailant.

The man was...strange, to say the least. He had stark, bleached white hair, and strange, heavy robes. In the summer. And strange make-up, too. A...lipstick line? Running from his bottom lip to his chin. Navy blue. 

Unfortunately for Tobias and his well-being in the future, he trusted this man. Probably because he assumed he was looking at some sort of agent or casting director, for some reason.

“Then what are you, exactly?” The mystery man gave Tobias a once over, leaning on the cane for balance. 

“OHH it’s funny you ask, sir,” Tobias stood up, dusted himself off, and attempted to look credible by leaning on the wall with his arm above his head. “I’m a Funke-”

“A Funke? I’ve never met one of your kind before.”

“Well, you have now!” Tobias shifted his position as if modeling for an invisible camera.“I’m an actor-”

“I thought you said you were a Funke.”

“Yes, well, one can be both,”

“I see.” The man looked very intrigued with this.

“And truth be told-oh, where are my manners?” Tobias held out a blue, sweaty hand, which the man did not take. “What is your name, sir?” 

“You will call me the Collector”

“Ohhh, mysterious, I like it!” 

If the Collector had taken Tobias’s hand, he would have realized that the blue was in fact paint, and not Tobias’s real skin. But he didn’t, so he didn’t.

“I am Tobias. Tobias Funke.”

“Tobias, the Funke.”

“I guess you could say it like that. AAANYWAYS-truth be TOLD-I’m looking for parts. You don’t happen to know where I could find any parts, do you?”

The Collector smirked. “I have many parts I can give you, for a price.”

“Oh, of course, of course.” Tobias was smiling until he realized that in fact, his only remaining money was stolen. He winced. “Welllll, my money was, uh, stolen but, I’m sure I can work it off somehow?”

The Collector smiled. It was creepy, but somehow Tobias didn’t realize how creepy it was. Maybe it was the fact that he really wanted those roles. Maybe it was the dehydration. Who can say? “Oh, I know just how you can pay me, don’t worry about that.”

“Great! Let me just grab my rope, and my headshots, and-” Tobias was knocked out cold by the stick, and that’s the last time he would see New York ever again.

\---

It had been about three weeks. Three weeks since Tobias was dragged here and placed in the small glass tube in...maybe a spaceship? He wasn’t sure, no one ever cleared that up. But he’s pretty sure he saw, like, multiple aliens since he’s been here. And a few planets out the window. And he’s pretty sure that this isn’t a casting agency, either. Well, maybe this is how casting agencies look in space. He figures if that’s true, then space sucks a lot.

“I miss Lindsay.” He says to no one, the sound of the words echoing off the glass cage walls. “And Maeby...”

Sometimes he wonders if they miss him. Sometimes he wonders if he’ll die in here. Also, he wonders if they’ll give him new magazines because he’s already read all the way through the ones they gave him.

“Maeby….Maybe I should have spaced those magazines out more.” It’s true. He should have.

His life has turned into a waiting game, confined for god knows how long. His only company is his own distorted reflection, staring at him eternally from inside the glass walls. Oh, and silence. It’s always there. Sounds are rare and if they do occur, they’re muffled by the prison he’s confined to. 

“I hate New York.”

This time, something answers him. A clang? In the distance, down the hall somewhere. More. Shouts, muffled. He sits up, excited and scared for the first time in weeks that feel like years.

“Hello?” If anything heard him, it doesn’t answer except in more shouts and murmurs, glimmers of action. Are those gunshots? Is it coming...closer?

“Hello? Anyone there?"

It is. The footsteps echoed off the metal walls. It...They? Oh. He?

“Hello?" Third time's the charm. "Are you the magazine guy?”

Thanos laughed under his breath. “Not exactly.”

**Author's Note:**

> so this is the weirdest thing ive ever written in all my years,


End file.
